


The Empress at Night

by Laura_Laplace



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Sex Magic, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Laplace/pseuds/Laura_Laplace
Summary: Empress Emily Kaldwin has taken a liking to risk taking, and one of her guardsmen, in that order.
Relationships: Emily Kaldwin/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	The Empress at Night

Only someone who spent a lot of time examining the Empress would see that there was something different about her now.

Not that there was anything unexpected about things in her changing, she had just survived a coup attempt that, strictly speaking, could be more accurately described as a successful coup and then a counter-coup, but it wasn’t like that. Empress Emily, much like her coterie and the media besides, seemed content with pretending that the majority of that had not happened, was consigned to a past that no longer existed. There were predictable consequences of what had happened, ones that the Empress was not displaying. 

But there was something, something that Joseph could see, though he would never admit it. It wouldn’t do for a mere guard to talk about such things; it would be considered idle gossip at best, and something close to active sedition at worst. 

So, he kept quiet and did his job, watching over the halls of power in as close to stoic silence as he could manage. This wasn’t such a bad job, and he wasn’t about to throw it away on his imagination. He watched, because that was the thing he was there to do, and hoped the entire time that the Empress wouldn’t notice the degree to which that watching always seemed to stray to her. 

Because if there were something, and she was hiding it, and she suspected he knew…?

Surely there was no way that would go well, would it? 

Night watch was at least easier than the other possible shifts, in that it was quiet and less likely to involve disruption. There was tell of someone skulking around the palace grounds at night, the rumor mill did constantly grind away, but Joseph had never seen hide nor hair of any mysterious trespassers. 

Not until tonight, as these things always went. Your life never changed much, until it did.

His route taking him past the outermost walls of the central palace building, Joseph’s path through the house was lined with windows, points of ingress that needed to be checked and double checked at least twice a night. Thankfully this could mostly be accomplished at a glance, but occasionally he stopped, tried to lift one of the window panes out of its frame or jostle a lock. It was important to at least feel like he was working sometimes.

The shadow that blurred past the window, then, was something he saw right away, knowing almost as quickly that he would never be able to deal with alone. 

That was in part just simple observation; after two rebuffed coups achieved by cloak and dagger above all else, those employed to guard high value areas knew well enough what happened to soldiers who went following mysterious figures alone. But even taking basic self preservation out of the picture, the thing that passed Joseph by this night moved in ways he could not hope to replicate, possessed of a deftness and speed that had him outmatched even before he had begun. In a very real sense, the best fighting chance he had was to fall back and call for reinforcements. 

Of course, then, the silhouette vanished along the side of the building for a moment, only to reappear, sidling inside from some unseen crack.

It saw him almost the moment it entered, strange senses directing it toward the nearest source of trouble. A severe head atop a thin neck snapped in Joseph’s direction, a being of fulminating shadow that existed for the first few moments of its attack as a liquid darkness flowing his way. That a human figure resolved itself from that black, shedding the shadows like a clinging mist, did not alleviate Joseph’s shock; in fact, it made it worse. 

A human from that beastly litheness could only be the work of the Outsider…

She- and it was a she, beneath all that magic- raced across the hall in a few great strides, momentum carrying her far further than her own steps could. She was on him in moments, long before he could so much as draw his sword, let alone begin its arc; had the woman been bringing her own weapons to bear she would have cut him down with ease. But there were no blades in her hands, no firearms, just the jarring impact of her body hitting his, then the second, of their combined weight hitting the wall.

There was a thud, quieter than Joseph might have expected.

There was the exhalation of a breath long held, and cold eyes peering from over the rim of a black cloth mask. An impossible darkness spread from her thin form, tendrils that cut through the world, void made manifest and reaching from her back into the frames of the nearest windows. They tethered her in place, and more importantly, cut off any escape route Joseph might have had. 

For a moment there they just… stood, a moment frozen in tension and indecision. Joseph, back pressed to the wall and eyes wide, found himself looking over the woman with rapid, almost frantic glances, soaking in the details of her person in hopes of retaining something identifying. He swallowed thickly; there was no getting around the fact that the intruder was straddling him, feet planted on the wall at either side of Joseph. She was so very close to him, tight trousers pushed into his stomach to keep him in place, her body hot and trembling with exertion. 

Her thighs were all lean muscle and power, clung tight to Joseph’s waist. Her hair was dark, raven black and swept to one side, fringe down over hazel eyes that inspected him with close, dispassionate attention. Swords at her belt were of a particular design, reminiscent of ones Joseph had seen before. There was a scent on her, subtle and flowery, a low smell of expensive perfume… 

‘M-majesty?!’ The word had left Joseph’s mouth before he could think to restrain it, tumbling into the world to incriminate him. The consequences of being right were literally unthinkable, recognizing his queen in a situation like this would give her so few means of recourse that would allow her to keep her reputation intact, he wouldn’t have been the first of the help to have gotten in the way of the nobles and been shouldered aside… 

‘Ah. Yes, I suppose this shouldn’t have been terribly unexpected in my own home, shouldn’t it?’ With a voice that was undeniably recognizable, Empress Emily Kaldwin demurred from behind her mask, her eyes narrowing. ‘I do apologize, but you won’t remember any of this in a moment. I’ll pull some strings, make sure you aren’t penalized for sleeping on the job.’

Her hips shifted as she changed her position, lowering herself in such a way that her ass came to rest somewhere… a little stiffer.

‘Really?’ Her brows beetling, the Empress lilted more with intrigue than agitation. She tilted her head to one side, something speculative in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. What she did not do, however, is move away. 

‘But I’m your Empress!’

‘Ah, yes,’ Joseph tried his hardest, but couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice, due most principally to the contact of warm, tight womanhood against him. The idea that one might act to mislead the the woman atop him was unthinkable: ‘I-it’s possible that my current, ah, impropriety is because you are my Empress, Highness.’

Thought processes that were surely inscrutable and too complex for the average man played out behind the Empress’ eyes, her cloak of darkness licking up the lines of her body, hugging at curves that it had only hung loosely from before. Emily Kaldwin looked down at Joseph with magic in her gaze, an intoxicating danger in posture and manner. 

‘Tell me,’ she said finally, once her thinking had reached its inevitable terminus. ‘Are you alone on your detail, young man?’

For just a moment, the span of a single muscle motion, the Empress of Dunwall bounced down, trouser-clad ass rubbing the length of Joseph’s… impropriety. Everything in him shuddered at the touch, disbelief and, yes, arousal trembling through him. It felt like the rug was all the way primed to be pulled out from under him now.

‘Silence is a yes, young man,’ the Empress said. ‘In that case, we have some latitude, which I’m sure I can put to good use convincing you to keep your peace…’

Tendrils of black magic tilted Joseph’s head, in the same moment that Empress Kaldwin settled herself down further, now straddling his hardness. She kissed him, forcefully, and on her tongue were voices from other places, a taste like silver and other fineries, her lips like the rim of a crystal wineglass tilted to his mouth. 

Joseph imbibed whatever spellwork his Empress fed to him.

She tasted cold and clean against his tongue, the taste of polished and honed metal, vaguely sweet and… appraising, in a way he could not quite appreciate. One of her feet lifted off of the sill of the window, planted itself gently against Joseph’s stomach, all pointed heel and subtle pressures. The Empress held him pinned there thusly, stroking the bespoke leather at her instep up and down his abdomen as she sucked his tongue into her mouth and planted black magic right at its tip. 

Shadowy tentacles clung to Joseph’s body as Empress Kaldwin slithered down it, pressing herself firmly to his erection at every possible moment, drawing pulses of need from her guard as she descended. Her eyes, when he caught them, brooked no argument, held the firm convictions of a ruler on the march, a queen that knew what she was doing. Even had he not been one of her subjects, Joseph would not have known how to argue with that look. 

Which became a matter of some urgency when Emily Kaldwin, who had dominion over all the lands of Dunwall, began to undo his pants.

Strangely enough, even after everything that had happened so far, Joseph found that he wasn’t prepared at all for this; her gloved hand delving below his belt was by no means unpleasant, but it was the sensation he had least been expecting, even with the taste of her still in his mouth. With the kiss it had felt something like skimming across the surface of a dream, as though any moment might see him snapping back to a reality where he was alone in the halls and there were, again, windows to check. 

But every moment this rolled on drew it, strangely, closer to reality. The sensation of this generally worked the other way, and feeling it pulled in reverse was unnerving. 

Nervous as it made him, though, Joesph could not deny the Empress’ hot breath on the tip of his now bared cock, filtered through the dark material of her mask but no less real. He shivered, and she pulled down that mask at least, revealing the rest of her face and cementing the fact that this unprecedented chain of events was, somehow, happening. 

‘Oh, don’t look at me like that, young man,’ she said, a tsking admonishment in her voice, and for a moment her lips brushed the head of his cock. Joseph squeaked. Emily shook her head: ‘I’ve not grown a second head or anything. You have no idea how stifling royalty can be, but it’s precisely the sort of thing I can drop under this mask and a good shadow. I don’t need you to understand it fully, just to… indulge your Empress a little, alright?’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ Joseph exclaimed, then winced at the sudden volume of his voice, echoing down the empty hall.

‘Oh, given the circumstances I think we can be less formal,’ she replied, extending her tongue and tasting the man before her for the first time. ‘Emily is fine.’

She acted with, indeed, the confidence of royalty, moving with an assertive grace that Joseph simply did not have the reaction speed to rebuff. He was in her mouth before his could even finish opening to speak, warmth and wetness engulfing his length in a rather singular stroke. With an active tongue and lips that gripped tight even as she moved, Emily’s oral attentions took Joseph’s breath away, pressed him flat into the wall; the bulk of his attentions went right to his hips, drawn forward to his Empress with every bit of leverage he could find. 

Emily, on her knees and with her eyes drifting closed, groaned high in her throat, the sound feminine and vulnerable in a way that he had never heard from her before; it was the sound of a woman cutting loose, giving into a moment without reservation. Not something, Joseph supposed, that an Empress of a land like this would get much opportunity to do around others. 

Certainly not something he would see fit to interrupt, regardless of the risk of discovery. 

The thing that surprised him the most was just how hard the Empress went from the out, as though in this one set of acts she knew no restraint at all. Her strokes were deep and forceful, hitting the back of her throat over and over again. Her arms folded primly behind her back, balance exquisite and shadowy tentacles moving in spite of it all; it seemed that they were the true receptacles of this woman’s wild passions. 

Joseph tried not to move, conscious at every moment of the dangers of having void magic as close as it was, but those dark tendrils were unexpectedly intimate, running up beneath his uniform and against his skin with tickling, mistlike tips. There seemed no end to them, no length to which they could not extend, no… place on him that they could not reach. His clothes began to writhe with their sinuous coiling, brushing at his thighs, his chest, curling around the curves of his ass as their mistress worked at his cock. 

His toes curled inside his shoes; Emily was close to fucking her mouth on his length, heedless and happy in her wantonness. It was not a side of her that Joseph had ever seen before, this woman so unleashed that her exertions had her gagging hard enough to draw tears. 

When her eyes flicked up to meet his own, though, he understood: this was more than just a momentary loss of control. There was magic in what she did now, her gaze black and her Outsider’s mark shivering against her skin. Suddenly the patterns her tentacles traced upon his skin seemed less a stimulating randomness and more directed, lines and sigils of something Joseph could not possibly understand, building and building in time with his own lusts. 

A more prudent man might have backed away, but as Emily’s tongue smacked against his tip one more time, no action seemed less likely to Joseph. He wanted it, god how he wanted it, and he knew that nobody who looked with a dick in her mouth like Emily looked with his in her mouth could be plotting something bad. 

It was clear, just by looking at her, that in this moment she only wanted the one thing. And Joseph was not far from giving it to her.

His hands came up, fingers sliding through the darkness of Emily’s hair as he grew closer still, holding her to him. More tendrils of darkness wrapped around his wrists and drew taut, offering not an inch of freedom; their tips drew new symbols along the insides of his arms, pleasant and ticklish in equal measure. He could not hold out for long… and Emily’s fervent sucking suggested she didn’t exactly want him to either. 

Though he held out for as long as he could, Joseph finished their dalliance with a twitching of his hips and a gasp that caught in his throat. Emily, her eyes avid and locked firmly on his, drank him down without skipping a beat, her clasped lips drawing further shudders of sensitivity from the man until, after some seconds had passed, his orgasm faded. 

There was a strange, nerve-based cold that ran through Joseph in the afterglow, the workings of magic that, for a moment, he did not understand. A little cum-drunk, and severely interested in watching Emily swallow, wiping her mouth with delicate fingers, he didn’t put all the pieces together until her tentacles had receded. Something tingled below the belt, in a way distinctly different from his standard post-orgasm sensations. 

It continued, long past the point that any transitory feeling should last…

‘W-what did you…?’ Joseph’s voice had inflected the thing like a question, but it came out breathless, coming on the back of some internal contraction he couldn’t quite place. Emily rose to her feet in front of him, the workings of her spells vanishing into the cool, quiet night. 

All except, that is, the little marker spell the Empress had left just above his crotch, her sigil curling, delicate, complex. 

‘This is my palace, of course, so I really only do this to keep my skills sharp and… well, for the fun of it,’ the ruler of all the land spoke with a giggle in her voice that bespoke an amusement she rarely felt in day-to-day operations. She placed a hand against her mark, fingertips gliding along the curving lines of her guard’s new tattoo. Just a little concentration and the blooming sigil activated, pinks and blacks flickering across its surface. 

Joseph gasped, very nearly cried out; in just a second he was hard enough to go again, the Empress’ saliva still glistening on the end of his cock. 

‘This is purely for fun,’ Emily said, giving it one last tap before, perhaps with a pang of regret, re-fastening Joseph’s trousers. She stepped back, a smile on her lips as she pulled her mask back up: ‘So we’ll see each other again. Keep your eyes on your Empress, young man, she’ll be doing likewise…’

The darkness took her in, swallowed Emily Kaldwin up and left Joseph alone in the hall. Silent and moonlit, there was nothing at all to tempt Joseph away from the idea that it had all been a dream…

… Until the next morning brought news that his next guard shift had been changed to just outside the Empress’ bed chambers.  
***

Keeping his back to that door was the hardest thing that Joseph had ever done. 

She was in there, and the fact that he could not see her sparked his imagination like little else. His mind kept returning to the night before, the sensation of her mouth on him, her crawling shadows squirming along his skin in some alien embrace. His runaway fantasies kept prodding him with questions, what she looked like beneath those severe gowns being foremost among them. 

And through it all, every moment, the possibility that Emily would leave her chambers eventually, that he and she would be alone in this hall together was a constant anxiety. What would he even say to her? What could he say?

Joseph had looked in his mirror back at the barracks, found the mark she had left on him still present and shining the next morning. He was no symbologist, but the dancing lines had looked positively regal, and the prominent heart shape they surrounded left little room for arguing as to the Empress’ intent. 

The Empress of Dunwall had attached a- possibly not metaphorical!- leash directly to his crotch, and now he just had to wait until she tugged. 

Her every noise caused him to jump, the comings and goings of her maids and butlers an endless increase in tension; he could not turn around, but he knew she was there whenever the door opened and one of them passed him by. It seemed to Joseph that hours had elapsed before the Empress finally saw fit to enter the palace proper, striding out once a moment came in which she was not seen to by a series of retainers. 

Hoping against hope that she had not heard the noise he had made when she exited, Joseph rushed to close the door to her chambers behind her, and thus had his back to the Empress while she checked, both by sight and by magic, that they were alone together. 

She could still feel the mark she had placed on him calling out to a place deep in her brain, an understanding of his nerves and blood vessels, the seats of his pleasure, uncoiling in her mind at the first thought. As he had been guarding her, thinking about her, the mark had throbbed in her too, its glowing sigil visible through the door, through the walls, through reality itself. A beacon of temptation that Emily Kaldwin had forced herself to ignore in order to go about her morning. 

But no further…

Casting one last look behind her, to the empty hallway that was, itself, guarded from outside, Emily committed her attention fully to the task at hand. It would have been simplicity itself to push the man through the door he had just closed, but in truth she only had a few moments in which to play, and besides, a little risk of discovery made that play all the more fun. 

Emily honed her concentration down to the finest point she could produce, hoping for the level of control over her skills that would make all this possible; unreliability was core to her magic. It didn’t always work as she wanted it to, especially when she really, really wanted it to. The Outsider’s magic could be intransigent indeed… but this time, at least, it worked perfectly.

Before Joseph could turn around, the Empress laid her hands on his shoulders, firmly enough to prevent him from moving to look at her. The dark tendrils she summoned this time grew out from the black leather of her belt, thin, thrashing things that twined together into more impressive shafts as they reached out to touch the man. They narrowed where they needed to, slipping into his pants while gossamer thin, before expanding to the perfect size for what they needed to do.

One set spiraled around his left thigh, knotting itself close to his knee before heading upward to cradle his balls and wrap about his shaft. The other entwined itself with his right thigh, making the same pattern but ending up at the other side, slipping between the… generous cheeks of his ass. Emily, the third set of intimate touches, pressed her crotch against Joseph’s butt, grinding into it with pressure enough to trigger the mark on the other side of him. It glowed through his pants.

Immediately, he thickened in the tentacle’s grip. 

‘It wasn’t a dream,’ Emily’s voice unrolled to the far corner’s of Joseph’s mind in a singular, seductive whisper. A sentence, spoken all at once, communication made instantaneous and driven into his cortices like the subtlest, gentlest of fingers, stroking a sensitivity within him he had not known he possessed. He actually whimpered, a need rising in him so fast and so hard he had no way of dealing with it. ‘I can see what you’re thinking, but it was all very much real, my boy…’

All at once Joseph’s cheeks reddened, and Emily could actually feel the heat of them in some far off, scintillating way, the sensations of his body transmitted to her through the throbbing glow at his crotch. His body was at once a solid, physical thing that she held and a ghostly network of second-hand pleasures, sparking in and out of Emily’s awareness and knocking her off balance when she least expected it. She found herself leaning on her guard more heavily, just to keep herself upright. 

Still though, this did not induce her to stop…

‘This is one of the few times I have to myself today, my schedule really is quite booked, so I’d appreciate it if you let me have my fun,’ Emily’s voice chimed through Joseph’s mind once more, amused and hot. His breath hitched in his throat, the tip of her tentacles running lightly along a sensitive spot on the underside of his cock. Emily chuckled, ‘Of course, my fun is inevitably your fun too…’

A cool, thin tendril slipped into Joseph’s ass, beginning thinly and shallowly, thickening in him by degrees, so that at each point he could grow accustomed to its intrusion. Men of Dunwall could be awfully… limited in their thinking sometimes, and if they could be eased into the fun of it all, so much the better. She took him, then, patiently and gradually, rolling her hips against Joseph’s backside until her probing shaft had thickened to what she considered an appropriate girth. 

And in his mind, a glittering, taut knot of pleasure, growing tighter by the second…

‘Hmmm, you took to that very easily, Joseph…’ Emily’s voice was regal, filled with brassy command and amused beyond measure. ‘Almost as though you’d done this before…’

Then, there were no more words, just the writhing of tentacles and the intensification of power to the mark between the guard’s legs. His thighs quivered, and Emily’s hands went to them, quick fingers brushing along the outside of his pants, following the indentations of her binding tendrils beneath. Slowly and with care, she stroked upward, jerking and fucking him as she went, listening intently to the panting of his breath and the hitching of his chest beneath her arms. 

Sliding deeper into him, tightening her grip on his cock and stroking with serpentine motion, Emily pushed her fingers past his parted lips and into Joseph’s mouth. His tongue leapt instantly to attention, running along the pad of her thumb, and in that moment Emily made up her mind about something important. 

‘Good boy…’ she murmured, pouring the words into his mind like the sweetest honey. ‘Let it out, it’s okay…’

Faster, harder, she attended to her guard, the tip of her tentacle flicking against hidden, interior sensitivities inside Joseph. He shook and shivered against her, eyes staring resolutely ahead, as though afraid that turning to look without permission might break whatever spell his empress was weaving, such that her fondling tendrils might turn to ash in his pants. Emily fucked him in time with the tidal rolling of her hips, her lips brushing gently against the nape of his neck.

She whispered a word in a language that nobody alive spoke, and the crest marked above Joseph’s manhood flared like a neon pink star. She could watch, as his mind blanked, subsumed below a pink mist that carried with it a single, unerring impulse. He came.

He came harder than he ever had before.

Breaking the tenuous vow of silence that the two of them had adhered to thus far, Joseph cried out with the sheer sensation of it, the sound deformed by his empress’ fingers still in his mouth. It was, all in all, softer than it could have been, certainly not loud enough to attract attention, and for that Emily was thankful. It was she, after all, who was in charge of the stealth of this little endeavor. 

And she wished to keep this show all to herself…

The boy writhed in her many-limbed grasp, breathing heavy and hips thrusting forward with every spurt of seed that filled his underwear. Emily pushed into him as deeply as she could, tightening herself around his twitching shaft down near the base; she could see the firing sequences of his orgasm as they happened, twinkling like strange stars in a personal night, and in their telepathic lights she could see where to press and where to relent to prolong and intensify her guard’s climax. 

He steadied himself on the door in front of him, leaning on it with one arm, as his empress wrung every last orgasmic spasm she could from him. The light on his mark only faded when she was good and ready for it to do so.

When he was finished, in the exact moment that his orgasm subsided, Emily’s tentacles dissolved into nothingness, such that only the touch of her hands and the reassuring solidity of her physical body remained in contact with him. Joseph still knew better than to turn around, understood more in that moment than ever before how much of what happened to him now depended on the favor of the empress of Dunwall. He held still, panting around her fingers, until she saw fit to slide them from his mouth and put her hands again to his hips, where her groin remained pressed to his ass. 

‘Good boy,’ she spoke out loud for the first time, her lips still against the back of his neck and feeling very much like the muzzle of a loaded gun right now. ‘My chambers, tonight. You’ll be on inner chamber duty again but the door will be unlocked and I will be expecting you on the other side of this door. Not that I think you’d object to the invitation, would you?’

‘No, Highness,’ Joseph felt his voice throb with lust, the words coming thickly, addled. He could muster no more. 

‘Such dedicated men, my inner guards.’ She spanked him once, hard, her hand lingering after the impact and grabbing at his ass. ‘See you tonight.’

Joseph did not need to turn around to know that she was gone.   
***

Guarding the empress’ chambers made one, effectively, a part of Emily’s retinue for the day; there was little point in standing watch over an unoccupied room, after all, not when there were outer hall guards for that. Joseph spent the rest of the daylight hours with the empress, once he had taken the time to… recover from their little private dalliance. 

It had taken longer than one might think. 

Still though, Emily made no move to suggest that anything was out of the ordinary once he had made his way back into the party. Outwardly she was as composed today as any other, a marked difference from how Joseph himself felt; the sneaking suspicion kept welling within him that somebody, everybody could tell what had happened, that the mark hidden beneath his clothes was all too visible. 

He spent the day squirming internally, interpreting every sideways glance from his empress as some form of coded message, though not one he was fully or easily able to interpret. Emily gave no overt signal, from her throne or during her works; she was patient and assured of her position, after all. But the mere sight of her on that throne, one leg folded over the other, hands clasped in her lap, after all that she had done to him that night, and earlier in the day…

There was not much she needed to do to fluster him anymore.

Sunset came at once too quickly and after an eternity. The empress worked into the night a little further, each second of it now that they were so close to what they had agreed on a pressure that Joseph could only barely handle. When Emily rose from her throne, clapping her hands together, he almost jumped.

‘And now I believe I’ll retire for the evening,’ she said, with a performative yawn to drive the point home. Going to leave the throne room brought out a gaggle of maidservants and butlers, trailing behind her like the tail of some servile comet. Emily treated them well enough- thank god- but it was clear from the spring in her step that she was eager to be rid of them, to perhaps be alone for the first time since she had left her room at the beginning of the day. 

This was an active queen, but she knew what she wanted. 

As promised, Joseph had been assigned to the inner door to her chambers that night as well, a fact that his guard captain found irregular; he even apologized for the imposition, the prospect of a normal double shift an exhausting one even to the old man. For Joseph’s part, he simply did his best to hide the strange sense of apprehensive glee that had stolen over him from the moment the sun had dipped below the horizon. 

The empress was waiting, after all…

He went to her door carefully, each step as silent as he could make it. He approached the threshold itself as though it were a bomb, or the maw of some great beast, ready to lash out. It clicked open at his touch, easily, well oiled; did this feel like putting himself between the teeth of the creature, or as something else entirely? 

The latter, Joseph thought, catching sight of Emily Kaldwin upon her bed. Effortlessly the latter.

‘Close the door behind you, officer.’ Reclining atop her sheets, Emily sat back, propped up on her hands, her ankles crossed before her. Her eyes were cool, amused, not unfriendly. Joseph was welcomed in, hastening to shut the two of them into this strange little world of moonlight and luxury. 

He had only ever seen inside this room in occasional glances through the doorway, he had never dreamed of the possibility of actually getting inside it. The grand feature window on the opposite wall (angled in such a way as to make attacks from outside difficult, if not impossible, of course), was aligned perfectly with the rising of the moon, such that a flood of silver light slanted across the thick carpet, illuminating the empress with a witchglow that both displayed her and veiled her in mystery. 

Joseph took one step forward, then two, without meaning to. She was deeply, impossibly alluring. 

‘I believe it is customary to bow before your empress,’ Emily said, drawing Joseph closer with a curl of her finger, until he stood in front of her. ‘I am your empress, aren’t I?’

The idea that this might be in doubt was unthinkable to Joseph. Smiling, he bowed deep, going to one knee before the seated queen. Gently, she tousled his hair, drew his cheek down onto her thigh; this was no act of fealty or servility, not by design. It was a connection, drawn for the first time in true privacy. 

‘Let it not be said that the empress of Dunwall is not gracious to her most loyal subjects, then…’ Her words now came into Joseph’s mind, Emily’s free hand moving to unbutton the top layers of her coat. There were other layers below, of course; the raiment of an empress tended to be overly complicated to the point of ostentatiousness… but if anyone was to be an expert in removing such things, it was Emily herself.

In no time at all, a strip of pale skin could be seen between the separated buttons. Emily shouldered her coat off, revealing a body banded in wiry muscle, a thin and distinctly leonine body. She only wore underwear on her lower half, breasts small enough that they didn’t require a bra; letting her coat fall to the bed, she sat before Joseph unguarded, unconcerned in her nudity. 

She regarded him with level eyes, the barest corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. 

‘You let me put my mark on you, so I think I shall thank you,’ her thoughtvoice whispered. ‘I rarely get a chance to apply my powers without all the cloak and dagger. Let me show you something I’ve been toying with…’

She gestured into the air, her fingers dancing through a series of symbols that Joseph couldn’t follow. Shadows deepened, new figures breaking off from them and approaching Joseph’s kneeling form. Beneath him, his own shadow disgorged a distinctly feminine form, rising into three-dimensionality from the carpet. There were three of them, and all of them were Emily, doppelgangers that pressed themselves against him with all the warmth and humanity of the real thing. 

He was straddling one of them, and it was this one that began to undo his pants.

Emily- the real Emily- stroked along Joseph’s cheek, drawing him in as the pair of duplicates that had come beside Joseph busied themselves undoing her trousers and pulling them down. They came together, his mouth and her now bared pussy, like a key to a lock. The taste of her, that royal wetness, was clean and sweet, all-consuming. 

The cloned Emily’s cooed along with their creator, and the one below Joseph rewarded him his attentions by slipping his dick into the warm, wet confines of her mouth; a sensation familiar from the night before, but far more gentle now. Less… hurried. 

‘Entertaining trick, isn’t it?’ The empress spoke with her mind and moaned with her mouth, the sounds of her lust a low, quiet backing track to her telepathic speech. Her fingers wound through Joseph’s hair, holding his head between her toned, pale thighs, as her duplicate bobbed between his own. ‘I have another. This one is called Domino.’

She cast the spell, linking herself to Joseph through a chain of her own doppelgangers, applying Domino to pleasure instead of pain for the first time. The effect was… different, tidal. The sensations of his tongue against her clit passed down the line, washing from one of herself to the next with only the most minute of delays, until they hit Joseph at the other end and his pleasure doubled. 

And of course, his pleasure rebounded back at her, enough to make her knees shake and her cheeks to go red. 

This had been a good idea. Emily couldn’t even imagine what it would be like when one of them finally came like this… 

‘Enjoy it, young man… ahn!’ Emily spoke out loud, her voice rising to a yelp as Joseph’s tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. He looked up at her, blushing furiously and rocking his hips into her duplicate’s mouth. ‘We have a long night ahead of us…’  
***

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission paid for by a fine and wonderful reader of mine. Want one of your own? Feel free to message me!


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